LUCRECIA.
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��spent with you, I should choose the day. Marcel, it is these supreme joys which it is impossible to describe, that carry one above the world. These joys I have tasted. They are a hun- dred times more precious than life, and I throw mine down without a regret, and without complaint, as an empty cup, as a dead flower whose perfume is gone.
"As for you, my friend, have I made you happy? Then reproach me for nothing ; you know I am not a coward ; that I would not flee, with shame on my face, from rendering an account to my husband. You will weep, my well beloved. I know there are griefs so poignant that one weeps tears of blood ; but be cautious ! No one will know of my death. I have taken my precautions to disappear without a sign. The Count Palandra, Monsieur Rospigliosi and you, will alone know the truth. Three days ago I sent Tosinghi to the Count with this letter.
" ' Monsieur :
Do not return to Pistoja. I have failed in my duty ; I have be- trayed you ; but I know what such an offence requires, and when you read this you will be avenged. The verdict, which my conscience alone has pro- nounced, my own hand will execute without noise or scandal. To all the world the Countess Palandra has gone to meet you at Florence ; but the car- riage which carries your unfaithful wife will stop at a turn of the road, and the guilty will die in an unknown cave, where no one will find her body. Adieu ! '
" Marcel, my friend, you will know where to find my body. It is from you that I wish a last kiss, and a few shovelfuls of earth. Oh God ! the idea that you will press me to your heart, that you will lay me in my grave, and cross my hands upon my breast, fills me still with a wild joy ! I do not wish to tell you here the place where you will find my body, for I fear that in your first grief you may betray me. Go to Monsieur Rospigliosi. I have written to him.
��" You must not die ; it would be a weakness. As for me, to satisfy honor, I willingly lay down my life, when it is beautiful as Paradise, and when each day added more delight ; but for you it would be to flee from sadness, you would desert the field of battle. Meet Palandra, if he seeks you, and then carry out your destiny which I have in- terrupted, and be noble and great in memory of me.
" Adieu ! adieu ! for the last time ! May the breeze which passes as I ex- pire carry to you all my love and not a regret."
At first Capellani stood like a statue. He believed himself insane, or a prey to a horrible nightmare, and he read her letter again. Then he felt a fu- rious desire to know the truth, and had a vague hope of saving her still, and he rushed to the Bishop's. Mon- sieur Rospigliosi was kneeling in .his oratory, and an envelope near him'in- dicated the object of his prayers. He rose and took the poor fellow's hand, and the latter burst into suppressed sobs. At last he gave Marcel the letter.
" Monsieur :" said she, "pardon the guilty one who ought to see in you only a judge, but who dares address you as a friend. When you read this I shall be dead. I know that the Catholic religion regards suicide as an unpardonable crime ; but I did not die as an atheist but as a stoic ; my suicide is not an act of cowardly despair, it is an expiation. I am punishing myself for being too happy in a guilty love. But if you will bless my mortal body you will at least carry out my last prayer. Console Capellani, fortify him against despair, and tell him my body is hidden not far from Casade Dei, in a cavern which he knows, and where I desire to be buried. Perhaps you will see the Count Palandra. Say to him that I pray for pardon.
" I beg you, Monsieur, to second the efforts which I have used to disap- pear from the world without attracting notice, and accept the respectful adieux of the guilty one whom you always
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